


Give It A Try

by SuperCollegian



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperCollegian/pseuds/SuperCollegian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wet dream bathed in moonlight that Derek might one day would submit to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give It A Try

**Author's Note:**

> Flash fiction practice. Feedback is always appreciated.

The pack meeting was over but Stiles, like usual, lingered. Sometimes they would order pizza and watch a varia of short film on Stiles laptop, they’d occasionally engage in a board game, or they’d just sit and enjoy each other’s company with a good book. Since Derek had bought a television for his new loft, they had resorted to watching foreign films via some company called Netflix, but Derek wasn’t so much paying attention to the screen. He’d gotten bored of the movie (something about paris, something about love...whatever) and took to watching Stiles, who was starting to drift a little toward the middle of the movie. Derek couldn’t help his smile. Stiles was a trooper, to say the very least.

“I think we should go to bed,” Derek suggested softly, reaching for the remote on the coffee table.

Stiles made a soft noise in the middle of his chest, lazily rearranging his limbs to get off the couch. When they got up, he reached for Derek’s hand mid-yawn and followed obediently to the bedroom.

Derek left Stiles on his side of the bed to strip down so he could dig something out of wardrobe that he’d probably never see again. Already down to his skivvies, he smirked at the thought the first night they’d slept together. To avoid all presumptiveness, he wore a sweatshirt, a shirt under it, underwear, and sweatpants, but as Stiles became more comfortable with removing his clothing, Derek obliged. As he finally laid his hand on a shirt and shorts (one of his last pairs), he noticed Stiles’ heart rate begin to pick up from across the room. It was a nervous titter, the same one he’d heard the first time they’d done this and not since, so, of course, it forced Derek to look.

Even though Stiles refused to admit it, he was kind of a pale-skinned glory. A wet dream bathed in moonlight that Derek might one day would submit to. His amber, doe-eyed stare, coated with an almost ill-placed innocence was betrayed by the smell of arousal slowly starting to waft Derek’s way. The crimson rising to Stiles’ skin was giving Derek’s heart a run for its money.

Trying to regain his sense of control, Derek tossed the shirt and shorts over to Stiles, blatantly ignoring what they both knew he could smell. It had happened once before and, mistakenly, Derek tried to act on it and scared the poor boy away for a week. Stiles was still holding onto his own shirt, though, looking like a pinup in the milky white light. His heart rate kicked up another notch as he dropped the shirt, tugged off his jeans, and carefully rolled off his socks.

The doe-eyes had Derek pinned. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. With a deep, decisive breath, Stiles walked around to Derek’s side of the bed. Licking his slightly chapped, tauntingly pink lips. He placed his hand over Derek’s erratic heart and gave a small, but solid nod.

“I’d like to try tonight.”


End file.
